Sleep
by Kilrez
Summary: It seems like such an insubstantial thing, until one has to go without it. And House does so love to play games with his ducklings.
1. Chapter 1

**Sleep, and all it brings**

What ho all! Exams be finished. And even if I miserably failed each and every single one, I will never, NEVER do that again. If I mention I'm going to do that again, slap me. Anyway- stories now! Tootle pip.

* * *

When Wilson finally caught up to House, he was standing in the hall outside the diagnostics lounge, staring in through the window. Pausing from a little way off, Wilson narrowed his eyes at his friend, wondering what he was doing, before figuring that the best way to find out would be to go and ask. 

House glanced at him as he approached; that briefly penetrative stare, which was quickly flicked back to his original object of interest. Intrigued, Wilson took a few more steps forward and followed House's look.

Cameron and Chase were in the office, and both were fast asleep; Chase resting his head on his arms on the table, and Cameron using a medical text as a pillow.

'What did you do to them?' asked Wilson in vaguely horrified fascination.

'I believe it's what they call case loading,' replied House, still watching his two protégés through the window. Wilson glanced back to him, and House finally tore his gaze away and returned the look, raising inquiring eyebrows.

'Uh, I've got an unusual patient. She's got breast cancer with a good prognosis, but there are other weird symptoms. I was wondering if you could give me a consult.'

'Well it's only fair, since you do seem to spend half your time in _my_ office giving consults. Or is that just what we tell Cuddy? I get confused.' House spoke absentmindedly as reached for the file and flicked through it. Foreman took that moment to wander up. House paid no attention to him, still browsing through the file, but Wilson blinked, surprised, as he took in the neurologist's appearance. Haggard would probably have summed it up nicely.

'Mrs. Reynolds' tox screens are running, as are Liz Badger's protein gels…' Foreman paused, smothering a yawn. House glanced up at him, impatient at the interruption. Too tired to bother to take offence at House's manner, Foreman continued. 'Bill Tam's mother's gotten back to us, and he had a dog as a kid, but not since he was ten. Umm…' another yawn, stifled, whilst Foreman tried to remember the rest. Wilson was looking sympathetic. House seemed unaffected by his plight.

'And… what was that patient you thought had neoplastic syndrome?'

Wilson knew about this one, so he lent a hand, chipping in with; 'The guy with the bright red hair? Carl Hoburn.'

'Yeah, him. I've put him on immunosuppressors, and plasmapheresis-'

'So we'll know if I'm right in a couple of hours.'

Foreman nodded groggily, swaying on his feet slightly, simply waiting for some other instructions. He looked beyond anything resembling conversation. House looked bemused, the file still propped open in one hand as he grabbed his cane with his other and leant on it, looking Foreman up and down.

'Is there a reason you're telling me all this? Is there actually any new information which will go far to solving one or all of the cases?'

Foreman tried to think for a moment, tilting his chin up wearily. 'The dog thing…'

'Zoo-otic parasitic infection was a long shot anyway.'

'Guess I'm just keeping you informed then,' stated Foreman blandly. 'I'm gonna go and check on…'

'Bobby?' offered House.

'Nah. Other one. With the blood pressure.'

'Tch tch tch Dr. Foreman. These are patients we are discussing here, not just symptoms.' This managed to get a rise out of Foreman, but only as far as a dirty glare. Cutting it short when it ran out of energy, he walked around the two doctors standing outside the diagnostics office, presumably heading for a ward. Wilson watched him leave with the same expression he had watched him arrive, and House went back to scanning the file.

'I knew you were a bastard House, but that's just cruel.'

'Hmm?'

'Look at them!' Wilson waved an expansive gesture towards the two exhausted doctors sleeping on their shifts and the third who was probably only upright through sheer force of will.

'You do have such a protective streak sometimes Jimmy.'

'Only to make up for a complete absence of one in you,' retorted Wilson.

'Tough love,' shot back House, cutting between Wilson and the glass wall of the lounge to enter his office. Briefly rolling his eyes to the ceiling, perhaps in supplication, Wilson trailed in after him. House slumped down at his desk chair with a tired sigh, setting the file down on the desk in front of him and looking up expectantly at Wilson. If you wanted to follow House into his office, then you had to have a reason for doing so. Wilson was one of the lucky few that could usually get away with token reasons, but at that moment he realized House hadn't had any more sleep than his team, giving him pause.

'Is it mystic's week, or do I get an explanation for your gracious presence?'

'You… haven't slept either, have you?'

'Ah, I see. Not mysticism. Protectivism.'

'Isn't a word.'

'Is now. Neology. The art of making up new words. If there's a word for it, then it must be true.'

'Um- bullshit?'

'Ah, no imagination. That one's already been taken. I believe it means something to do with untruths'

'Now how would you know a thing like that? You never lie.'

'Everybody lies.' The response was almost reflexive, making Wilson smile, which made House narrow his eyes as he tried to figure out why. Instead of explaining, Wilson sighed and moved to sit in one of the other chairs, although they were less comfy than Greg's master chair.

'It's my three minions that are meant to be all tired. Not you.'

'How about you?'

'Thought we cared about patients here. Has she got long hair?'

'Huh?' Wilson had been caught slightly off-guard by that comment, but got it as House glanced meaningfully down at the file again.

'Your patient's screwing up on her chemo meds. Explain to her the difference between the yellow pills and the red pills, and why keeping her hair isn't as important as keeping her life, and she'll be all better.'

'You sure?' questioned Wilson.

'Am I ever wrong?'

'Good point,' conceded Wilson with a meek smile.

'And yet you're still here,' noted House, after a pause.

'Yeah, that would be the other issue. Of you trying to kill your staff.'

'They gave informed consent.'

'What- to be run into the ground? You're risking malpractice on their behalves. And yours, I suspect.'

'Pfft. I eat malpractice suits for breakfast.'

'I see. And you're teaching your young grasshoppers to do the same?'

'Not if they don't screw up.'

'Excellent plan. Push them. And it will be entirely their fault if their sleep fogged-minds happen to confuse 0.2cc of epinephrine with 2ccs.'

'Well… yeah.'

'House, that's stupid, and you know it. It's possibly only coming out your mouth because you're as tired as they are.'

'Aw, come now Dr. Wilson. That's a completely unfounded claim.'

Wilson gave him a long look. House returned it steadily, and Wilson remembered that he never won staring competitions. He gave up.

'Just… send them home. That's all I'm asking. You're not going to figure out what's wrong with any of your patients in this state, so they'll either die, or they'll still be here when you get back.'

'How cold of you Dr. Wilson… I'm impressed.'

'It seems I'm learning from the best. Please House…'

'Oh stop it with the puppy eyes already. You should have been a door-to-door salesman. Half of America would buy vacuum cleaner nozzles they didn't want if you gave them that stare.'

'Thanks,' replied Wilson dryly. House inclined his head graciously. Pursing his mouth, Wilson reluctantly stood and left. Trying to force House into anything was essentially a lost cause before it was even started. You had to figure out a way to make him think it was his idea in the first place, which, with him being a borderline genius, was difficult too. At least he'd tried. And gotten an answer on his puzzling case.

House picked up his ball and tossed it up and down a few times in a thoughtful manner. Deciding, he placed it down again and used his cane to lever himself to his feet, standing for a moment until the world wasn't quite so fuzzy, before limping to the door connecting his office with the diagnostics lounge.

By the looks of the situation, Chase had come in first, to quickly gulp down some coffee in an attempt to stay alert, put his head down 'just for five minutes' and gone out for the count. Cameron, being the sweet soul she was, would have quietly entered later (careful not to wake him), and pulled out the textbook to leaf through it for some ideas. It looked like she was about up to 'M.' The problem with textbooks was that at some point, they all just started to look so comfy. And out went Cameron. Foreman was too damn stubborn to fall asleep at work, but House had been planning to let him go home to sleep when he asked to. He was yet to figure that that was his out clause, and thus the reason why he was still running the rounds.

House poured himself a cup of coffee then rifled through all the shelves and draws till he found some sugar. With the drink flavoured to his liking, he turned and leaned back against the counter, surveying his two protégés as he sipped.

Cameron looked even younger when she was sleeping (and House noted with amusement, dreaming), and he wished he could see Chase's face as well. He wondered if the man would actually become mussed from this situation, or if, the moment he sat up, his hair would all fall perfectly back into place. House was betting on the latter.

It would have been nice to get the trifecta and have all three of his ducklings clonk out on him on the diagnostic lounge's table, but Foreman wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, and besides, Wilson had given him the Puppy Eyes. He took another sip of his lukewarm coffee, savouring the moment a little longer before he did what he had to.

* * *

yay! TBC. Aren't they just your favourite letters in the whole wide world? (The tiny part of me that's still sane apologises profusely. I'm just... so very, ver' happy. hic, sniffle, gargle) 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- sleep

My apologies for the massive 3 week break. I had some partying to do. Will now dutifully return to FFN. (for at least a week)

* * *

Just as he was about to knock his cane against the table, waking them both up, Cameron gave a little moan that instantly had all House's attention. His eyebrows raised in amusement as the flickering under her eyelids was joined by a light flush running across her cheeks. Oh dear oh dear. She did have a certain talent for publicly embarrassing herself. Her lips moved slightly as she mumbled something, and House chewed briefly on his lower lip, before deciding against moving closer to try to hear what she was saying. Most likely, it would an admonishment against the giant carrot that had just jumped out at her from behind a hedgerow. Sleep talking was rarely about anything interesting. Most likely…

The dreaming also meant, if he woke her up right now, she'd vividly remember whatever it was she happened to be dreaming about. Not only that, but because she was in REM sleep, she would take longer to wake up than Chase, meaning if he was on the ball, he'd get to see this too. House couldn't let Chase have that kind of privilege.

Rolling his eyes at the things he did for his little ones, House decided he'd go give Foreman the good news first. Leaving Cameron to her dreams, he located the younger doctor in the ward of the 'blood pressure guy.' Leaning against a wall outside, House waited until he emerged, not particularly wanting to go anywhere near a patient.

'Come to tell me I'm working the late shift again?' Foreman asked sarcastically when he saw House lying in wait for him.

'Are you volunteering? I'm sure I can pull a few strings, maybe even talk to Cuddy…'

Foreman sighed heavily, conveying his annoyance with House with impressive depth of feeling. 'Oh _OK_. Wilson's ordered me to order you to go home. I told him he was being too soft hearted, and about being cruel to be kind and so forth, but the man's incurable. You're off duty as of now. Go, rejoice. And don't wake Cameron or Chase up on your way out. One of them's going to have to do that late shift you mentioned, so they need the sleep.' That wasn't the real reason- only House would get to wake up his little sleeping beauties.

Foreman nodded blearily, and the hope in his face was almost painful to see. House was amused to note that Foreman almost believed that this treat would be taken away again, like some sort of dog with a bone. If he was getting that paranoid about someone stealing his sleep, then perhaps Wilson had been right.

By the time House ambled back to the diagnostics lounge, Foreman had taken his stuff and cleared out, and Chase and Cameron were still sleeping soundly, unmoved. Wilson _was_ being cruel in asking House to end the fruits of his labour so soon. Getting not just one, but two of them to fall asleep here was a major achievement, and waking them up and sending them home would finish it.

Leaning against the counter again, he took a few more moments just to observe. Maybe he could get a camera or something. Perhaps frame the two of them sleeping in with the whiteboard, which was packed full with symptoms and divided up into spaces for each of their patients. It would make a nice photo to tack up on the department pin board, alongside that one of Chase with that colourful bruise he'd developed a few days after being hit by a mobster.

Unfortunately, Wilson was also right, as usual. Malpractice suits were a bad thing, whichever way you looked at them, besides which, whilst they were asleep, he couldn't harass them, which meant he started to get all those nasty fatherly pride type feelings creeping in. Honestly. He was suppressing urges to do horribly clichéd things like drape an extra lab coat over them. Who would have thought?

Sighing at the unfairness of it all, House loudly cleared his throat, watching as neither of them so much as flinched. As he well knew, they were _very_ tired. Rolling his eyes and heaving himself off the counter, he took a hobbling step forwards, lifting his cane and using it to prod Chase in the shoulder. The reaction was amusing and instantaneous.

'Learn that one in seminary school?'

Chase blinked a couple of times, looking at House in absent confusion for several seconds, before shaking himself and releasing his grip on the cane. Contrary to House's earlier theory, he did look mussed, combining well with his wide and confused eyes. House slowly lowered the cane, the tip hitting the floor with a thump as he leant on it with a smug expression. The young Australian clearly still wasn't quite with it, despite his ability to grab the sleep disrupting cane quicker than House could follow. He scanned the room once, before turning back to House and running his hand through his hair (which instantly fell back into place), and gave him that look common to all people who have been woken up when they weren't meant to be sleeping. Sort of the I-was-just-resting-my-eyes-and-why-does-my-mouth-taste-like-a-dead-badger?

'Dah…'

'My compliments on your reflexes. Also, you have officially slept with Cameron now.'

Chase looked over at Cameron, still resting peacefully, and looked back to House, an unamused expression on his face.

'Home. Go. You're no fun to tease whilst you're sleeping.'

'But what about the…?'

'Think very carefully about your next words. Because I will make you stay for another fourteen hours if they're an argument.'

Chase did some more blinking, then shrugged diffidently and stood, moving over to gather his bag. Which left Cameron.

'A Puppy Is Dying.' House enunciated loudly and clearly. She gave a little snort than opened her eyes, looking up at him with a frown before raising her head. Finding no answers from his amused scrutiny she looked questioningly to Chase, who shrugged again, this shrug saying _hey, it's House. Don't ask me._

'What are you talking about?' she asked House instead.

'I'm just doing a study on phrases that will wake certain people up. Note; that's a positive on appeal to pathetic pity reflex.'

Cameron lightly rubbed at her eyes, fighting back a yawn and trying to glance covertly at her watch. House shifted, leaning on his cane a little more while he waited.

'Dr. House, I'm sorry. I was just looking through…'

'Your pillow? Relax, Chase was being just as negligent on the job. And by the way- that sounded like a pretty interesting dream you were having.'

He suddenly had her full attention, and suppressed his inner glee to give her a carefully blank look. She retaliated with her own version of Puppy Eyes, which caused him to add: 'and you can go home now. Please. The cleaners hate having to clean drool off this table.'

'Uh… thanks…' she tried, sitting there for a moment longer. House had gone through about three transitions in as many seconds, which was far to fast for her sleep fogged mind to follow. He didn't bother to wait, making his way back to his office, fun had for the moment.

A few minutes later, two still quite tired looking ducklings walked off down the hall together, conversing familiarly. House clamped down hard on his faintly paternal smile.

The next morning, it was all three of them who walked down the hall together, shoulder to shoulder. There was something about having a slave driving boss that reduced the urge for petty squabbling and infighting. Helping each other to keep going during the anti-sleep marathon of the past few days had brought them closer together.

Foreman was finishing off a punch line as he walked backwards into House's office, pushing the door open with his back so he could keep eye contact for the joke. Cameron and Chase laughed on cue as they followed him in, pausing behind him at the sight that greeted them all.

Chase's lopsided grin morphed slightly but stayed firmly in place at the sight that greeted him.

'He's older than he pretends to be,' stated Foreman smugly, but he kept his voice down so as not to wake House. Stealthily, Chase crossed the office to feel the half-empty coffee mug that rested on the desk next to House's head.

'Still warm,' he mouthed.

'He lasted longer than us then,' offered Cameron in a whisper. Foreman indicated with his head that they should take it into the diagnostics lounge, and Chase and Cameron complied.

'And I'll have you know that I never fell asleep, so House didn't last longer than me,' he stated as soon as the door closed behind them.

'Yeah, right. You slept last night,' Chase pointed out. Foreman shrugged it off.

'Now now children. Why can't we all be winners?' Proving his ability to wake up much faster than Cameron _or_ Chase, House made his grand and scruffy entrance with that pronouncement.

'Because you just proved you get tired like a normal human being,' replied Foreman glibly.

'I was just resting my eyes,' confided House with a quirk of his eyebrow. 'Besides which, me being a 'normal human being' would be no fun at all for our dear patients. Remember them? The ones you didn't care enough about to just snort a triple espresso and suck it up?'

'But you told us we could go home,' protested Cameron, as always, missing the point of his sarcasm.

'Everybody lies Dr. Cameron. Now, watch closely.' In two limping strides he was by the whiteboard, and three quick flicks of the pen had crossed out two symptoms and circled a third. Raising his eyebrows at his children, he waited for them to get it.

The End.


End file.
